


Bobbi Morse: Ultimate Wing-Person

by TinyBat



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Strike Team Epsilon, Verse: Epsilon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 02:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3793213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyBat/pseuds/TinyBat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobbi puts in a little "overtime" for the sake of her health, and the love life of a very dear friend.</p><p>Tumblr Prompt Fill</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bobbi Morse: Ultimate Wing-Person

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weasleyspotter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weasleyspotter/gifts).



> Prompt: Bobbi and Jemma talking about Ward x Simmons???

Eternity was comparable to the amount of time Bobbi had spent out of a lab jacket, and frankly it was making her hands itch. Sure, she was designated to Ops, but she definitely didn’t waste 8 years working toward a biochemistry doctorate for nothing. Watching as one by one, the lab techs scurried out for the evening, she meandered in; a long sigh of satisfaction escaping her lips as she pulled on a pair of gloves and searched out something they might have missed.  
“Oh, hello Bobbi, I hadn’t been expecting anyone else. Anything I can help you with?” A curious Jemma asked, walking over to the other woman and smiling sunnily up at her.

“Nope, just needed some time out of the gym. I like actually getting to use my brain sometimes too. What have you got for me?” Bobbi wondered, pulling a coat on and tying her hair back.

“Nothing, actually. It’s a bit frustrating. I only came in to see if i’d left a sweatshirt in here. It’s been a bit boring lately, all action and no academics, that sort of thing. Not that it’s bad…” Jemma said, cheeks reddening slightly with embarrassment at her foot in mouth moment.

“I get it, a lot of hurry up and wait, and right now it’s just wait. Since you’re in a lull, and i’m currently losing my mind, how ‘bout a drink? I can’t even begin to tell you how much I want to be anywhere but on base right now.” Bobbi offered, disappointed by the sudden absence of busywork but doing her best to turn things around.

"A drink would actually be lovely. I’m a little done with the never ending supply of horrible American beer.” Jemma agreed, happily following Bobbi out into the corridor, and out a back entrance.

“If I didn’t agree, I would have argued. There’s nothing else like local brews, enjoyed where they’re made. There’s this fantastic little place just outside of Vienna, Trip, Ward, and I got dropped in once during a solstice festival and we got so drunk that we lost our mark.” Bobbi said, grinning widely as she recalled the scores of Krampusnacht revelers, and weaving unsteadily through the equally inebriated throngs of people.  
They strolled through the chilly night air and finally found a bar that didn’t look like it would serve what Jemma, and Hunter called “Piss in a Pilsner Glass”.

“I think i’ve heard part of this, the same op where Ward ended up falling off a roof and into an enclosure full of male reindeer?” Jemma asked, sliding up onto a barstool and scanning the taps for something tolerable.

“Yep, that’s the one. Did he tell you, or did Trip? Because if he told you, then you probably got a slightly sanitized version. He hates admitting to ever getting his ego bruised.” Bobbi teased, noticing the slight change in Jemma’s expression as she listened.

"There may have been Tramadol involved, so I don’t think he lied.” Jemma said, looking slightly shamefaced as she flagged down the bartender. 

“You got him high on painkillers? Shit, he must like you. Stubborn son of a bitch won’t even take a tylenol if we don’t force it on him.” Bobbi asked, thoroughly dumbstruck by the image of tiny Jemma trying to force Grant Douglas Ward, Patron Saint of the Stiff Upper Lip to willingly compromise his clarity and awareness.  
"Three broken ribs, a nasty scalp laceration, and a fractured wrist sort of merited it. I’m the closest thing we have to a doctor, it has nothing to do with how we get on as people.” Jemma insisted, ignoring Bobbi in favor asking for what ended up being an obscenely old bourbon to start with.

“You keep telling yourself that. Not that he’s Mr. Romance but I know him better than pretty much anyone and if he’s got a type, it’s you.” Bobbi said, ordering a Dogfish IPA and turning on her now definitely blushing companion.

“Nonsense. He and Agent May were perfectly compatible, just not well timed. I also have a policy in regards to dating within the workplace.” Jemma lied, finishing most of her drink in one go, and grimacing as it went down.

“But you slept with other Academy students…I don’t blame you, he’s a mess but it’s not like he wouldn’t take good care of you if you took him for a spin. Not that i’d know.” The thought of having any first hand knowledge of how good either of her former team mates fared in bed was so far beyond gross that she couldn’t find words for it. 

“It’s out of the question, and I say this even with a fair amount of both thought, and clinical experience.” Jemma huffed, now ordering a beer to follow. She clearly planned on wiping this conversation from her conscious mind.

“So you’ve considered it then?” Bobbi mused, wondering if Jemma ever bothered to see far enough past her work to notice how hard Ward stared at her whenever the opportunity presented itself.

“I highly doubt there are any people alive and attracted to men who haven’t. I’ve spent more time around him stripped to his underwear than most people have with his clothes on. I know exactly how irritatingly close to perfect he is, even when he’s bleeding in six different places.” Jemma snarled, aggravation radiating off of her small form. Bobbi was a little surprised that she hadn’t become the first case of sexual frustration induced human combustion.

"Aaaand there it is.” Bobbi exclaimed, thrilled to get at least one admission.

“Where what is? That’s hardly a victory, i’ve considered sleeping with almost everyone. Only a few of them seem as though they’d turn me down too, Ward happens to be one of them.” Jemma said, glowering into her beer.

“Honey, there’s no way you can be as brilliant as you are and so selectively blind too. There isn’t a single surface he wouldn’t take you on, if you asked or even hinted at wanting it. Again, I know him. It’s like watching a wolf stalking a pretty little girl in a red cape.” Bobbi barely restrained herself from banging her head on the bar top, she didn’t like playing matchmaker but someone had to do it.

“Angela Carter red cape, or children’s nursery red cape?" 

"Carter, definitely Carter. Sex, blood, feminine power metaphors et al. You could whistle for that boy and he’d come running. If you’re into it, I hear he likes to bite.” Bobbi stopped now, Jemma was currently choking on her beer and spluttering inelegantly. 

“Good bloody lord, are you seriously trying to get me to break frat regs with your best friend?” Jemma rasped, once she found herself capable of speaking again.

“In pretty much every conceivable position. If nothing else, you need to get laid and i’m pretty sure that he’s going to die soon if you don’t throw him a bone. He’s so pathetically into you that it hurts to watch.” How everyone but Jemma had noticed was amazing, but the time of blissful ignorance was now coming to a well deserved and violent end.

“If you’re going to keep prattling on about it, i’ll have a little bit of fun next time he needs looking at and i’ll see how he responds.” Jemma mumbled, admitting defeat.

“Awesome! Now let’s settle the tab and go. It’s going to be way too cold to walk back soon and there’s no way we’re getting a cab.” Bobbi squealed, dignity all but gone in the face of a job well done. She slapped cash on the bar, and dragged Jemma back out into the cold.  
“You’re going to dislocate my shoulder, and i’m really not in the mood to have someone else put it back!” Jemma groused, barely able to keep from tripping as Bobbi marched them back inside.

“Hey, where the hell have you been? I’ve been looking you you everywhere!” an irritated Ward called, pinning Bobbi with a very pointed look. Bobbi’s heart soared, she loved opportune moments.  
“That so?” She asked, releasing Jemma, taking a few steps forward, and serving her glowering friend with a very carefully controlled but definitely painful right cross to the face.

“What the-” Ward began, staggering backwards and looking bewildered.

“Thank me later.” Bobbi whispered, before pushing Jemma up to him and all but skipping away.

“Jem, I think he needs looking at!”


End file.
